Harkons Thirst
by NO DADDY NO
Summary: Walach Harkon approaches the keep of the knightly order of the blood dragons  He begins a night of slaughter.  One shot


A/N: Well it seems I have fics popping up everywhere nowadays...Be warned the dialogue in this is pretty Cliche'd at some points

This is a pretty long Oneshot.

Walach stood in front of the huge keep and grinned, His fangs savage,long and pointed. His pale skin showed easily in the darkness.

Not even the moon shined on this night, Only magical energy shined from his blood red Armour and

the Huge two handed sword he held in one hand as if it where nothing more than a childs toy.

Necromantic energy flowed through his veins, For He was Walach Harkon, He who had trained under the Mighty Ahborash who had slain a dragon in single combat and drank from it's blood. Yes, he was one of the greatest warriors ever to live and None would stand before him, not even the So called Knightly orders.

Sheathing his huge ornate blade upon his back he walked out of the shadow and up to the castle's gate.

There he gave a mighty cry

"I am Walach Harkon! and I have come to challenge the so called greatest warriors the empirehas to offer! come face me now, Mortal dogs!" He spat the last word with contempt. A few seconds later and a young Militia Archers head appeared over the curtain wall an arrow knocked. He took aim however Walach merely raised his hand.

A bolt of pure necromantic energy flew from his outstretched palm and into the archers chest. Causing him to cough blood and collapse. Walach could smell the blood, he could feel the terror of the other guardsmen on the wall and he heard the footsteps as they fled down the stairwell to his masters chamber. The pure fear he inspired made him grin in arrogance as he stepped forwards towards the gate. He waited a few seconds before watching a figure step out.

Walach licked his lips in anticipation. The first fight he thought to himself in glee.

His opponent was a full knight that much was obvious to say the least. His blood red armour and the dragon on his shield proved it.

Walach hissed "Come blood Dragon, face me and die" and with that he threw his gauntlet to the ground in challenge.

He could hear the laboured breath of his opponent, the rapid beating of the heart. This man feared him, but only slightly and that...wasn't enough.

The Knight roared "I am Caelendus, Knight of the order of Blood Dragons, Protector of the Empire an-" Walach cut him of

"Yes, yes I've heard it all before boy. Now let me taste your blood"  
>Caelendus took a step forward, two blades in his hands. Walach decided to end him quickly as he dived forwards. His blade flashed its unholy runes glowed andhe stopped five paces behind the Knight.<p>

Caelendus gasped in pain, and clutched his throat before he collapsed. Blood spilled to the ground but Walach did not touch it.

That was to easy he thought to himself angrily as he stepped forwards. I came here to find a worthy opponent and I will find one if not a hundred.

He entered the courtyard and looked around, The keep was in Immaculate condition, he grinned, the blood shined on his hauberk and simmered as it merged with the armour. The knights and Militia stared in horror. Walach took another step and grinned In a rasping voice he declared, "Next?"

A new challenger stepped forwards his blade old and rusty. He was obviously not a Full knight and the ill disguised fear in his eyes told Walach how he would fight.

but Fear didn't make you a coward and this one would fight to the death it seemed. He could hear the prayers to Sigmar being chanted upon the young ones lips as he took a fighting stance. "I am Stalleus...you just killed my master, I accpet your challenge undead filth!" Walach grinned, He would toy with this one and if he was worthy...well he might just be turned.

This time he jumped at his opponent, His blade was a blur as the Squire pulled his sword up to block. The force of the blow pressed the Squire to his knee's and made him cry out in pain. Walach took a step back, Raising his blade and widening his legs to form a defensive stance. Stalleus rose to his feet and charged at Walach savagely.

It seemed he was a stubborn one Walach thought to himself. Stalleus's blade came crashing down upon Walachs guard and that revealed his abdomin. A full powered kick sent him sprawling, His lungs crushed and his stomach battered. Walach chanted a quick incantation, there was no more Death in the air than a few seconds before, The boy was just unconcious...good he would make a good Vampire, once He'd learned some respect that is.

Once again Walach raised his blade in challenge.

After continual slaughter finally it seemed the Marshal was going to step forward. The courtyard was littered with dead knights and only a score still stood.

Although few of the great host were considered worthy for turning, there were probably more Worthy candidates here than anywhere else.

Walach grinned at the Marshal as he stepped out, stood behind him were five shadowy figures...Priests?.

Two of the figure stepped Forward and suddenly Walach smelled something...Well...he had gotten more than a challenge it seemed. A Priest of Sigmar AND a witch hunter in one fight. He had wanted a challenge but this was unbelievably lucky.

The Sigmarite wore the standard ceremonial robes of his temple, however the Witch hunter was something different. A small Iron circlet was upon his forhead and a silver ring was upon his finger, no doubt it ws engraved with some holy sigil. In one hand he held a bright sword that seemed to shine out, while the priest held in both hands a Warhammer the favoured weapon of a priest...

The witch hunter raised a small crossbow pistol and fired it, while the Sigmarite began chanting war invocations to his god. Walach dodged the bolt with ease. Not much for conversation these two Walach thought grimly. He could feel the power of Sigmar sapping him of his Will and weakening his power he could feel his reflexes slow, while the Witch hunter's blade had some form of blessing on it no doubt. Suddenly the priest roared and pulled the Hammer from a strap on his back and Charged the Vampire.

He was strong but so was the Priest as Unholy Sword met Blessed Hammer. Sparks of pure energy flew and Walachs blade previously glowing red, turned to a vivid green, while the Sigmarites Hammer had been vibrating with Energy before it now shook madly with the power being invoked upon it. Both warriors drew back there weapons and suddenly the Witch hunter dived in towards Walachs flank, cutting deep into the flesh the blade burned him from the inside. Laughing Manically to hide th pain Walach sent a volt of energy towards the Witch hunter and sent him sprawling across the priest gave another savage warcry and charged again this time redoubling his efforts. Once again there weapons met however this time the priest triumphed. Shattering the blade and giving a victory call he pulled back his hammer and then brough it back down upon Walachs skull.

Walach struck the priest with his gauntleted fist and then dived between his legs just as the hammer struck the ground where he had been moments before.

For the First time Walach began to feel the fear of defeat. So this is what fear feels like? he wondered to himself as the priest turned around. Suddenly movement attracted the priests eye, as the Witch hunter rose up from the ground. Walach charged at the Priest taking advantage of the distraction and bought his Fangs down upon his neck.

His flesh Tasted foul, of holy water and sacred oils and it burned his mouth. However he didn't remove his mouth, not straight away, He puntured the jugular vein and took a quick sip of the blood, restoring his energy and strengthening him. A sudden pain and great blow to his side broke his feeding and Walach remembered the Witch hunter a little too late as he fell to the ground. That blow would have killed him if he hadn't drank from the priest he thought to himself in shock as he turned his fall into a roll and then flipped back upwards. His eye's and that of the Witch hunter met. Jingling as the Witch Hunter moved drew Walachs eye's to a small pendant around his neck, That must've been how he survived the bolt...But it was out of energy now. If he himself could just bring up the energy to finish of the Witch hunter he could face the Marshal of the order and finish of the weaker opponents with ease..

He concentrated, ignoring the pain from the multiple wounds he had suffered and finally succeeded in bringing another bolt of energy this time it struck the witch hunter full on in the face burning the flesh away and melting the iron circlet he had worn above his head.

Walach smirked, the other priests backed away. There robes told him they were priests of Morr, God of death. They wouldn't be much of a threat.

Picking up a nearby lance from one of the fallen knights he snapped it in two and threw both peices at the preists killing both the other tried to run, but to no avail and Walach grabbed him by the throat and drank deep. Unlike the Sigmarite the servant of Morr tasted good, He tasted of death and Decay. A few seconds later and Walach discarded to empty body. He moved towards the Last remaining warriors and grinned evilly. There was more fun to be had now.


End file.
